Aramis is colourblind. He had been this way for as long as he could remember, and he had adapted his situation and lifestyle to cater for this small hindrance in his life; he honestly never really noticed in any more, and that was what he told the others if they happened to mention it in passing conversation.

You can't miss what you never had he used to point out, to which Porthos, Athos and d'Artagnan would shrug and nod, before going back to their conversations about how the flowers that were routinely planted in the park on their way to work were really blooming this year with some fantastic colours, or when they marvelled at a woman's bright red coat as she passed them in the street, or even when they all went to the cinema or (on the very off-chance on a rainy day) if they found themselves in the National Portrait Gallery, they would wander round at all the different paintings, finding themselves lost in the deep, rich colours held in them, whilst Aramis would trail behind, trying to muster a fleeting shard of enthusiasm as he looked upon canvases which, to him, held varying shades of white, grey and black.

When he was a child he was always very vocal about his disappointment at not seeing things in their rightful colour. He would get upset when he read picture-books at school and the rest of the kids would comment on the bright colours, whereas he thought he was a freak as he could only see the pictures in greys.

His teachers were kind, as was his family and friends, but deep down he knew that they could only do so much to help him. In the end he just got on with it, and pretended he didn't really mind about not being able to see in colours. He told himself he was the normal one and everyone else was wrong.

Nowadays he hardly mentioned it at all, preferring instead to merely pretend he was fine and just get on with his life.

Porthos and Athos, however, had known their friend for a very long time. They knew how much he hated not being able to see in colour; they could see how his face fell when someone pointed out how green the trees happened to be or when they went to play football on a Saturday morning and he would get confused about which team was which as he couldn't tell the difference between their shirts.

They knew Aramis preferred not to drive in the city-centre, even though he was perfectly able to. They knew he got worried that, even though he had adapted to telling when the lights were changing by the way the circles on the traffic light seemed to show up as a brighter shade of grey, he would somehow misread them and cause a crash.

This was why, after Porthos was searching the internet for an amusing present for Aramis' birthday and came across an advert that had some great reviews, he knew he had to get the others involved.

The big day arrived- this year Aramis' birthday fell on a Sunday, so none of them had to be at work, so they could take the whole day to get their plan into action.

'Why are we driving so far if we're just going to the pub?' Aramis muttered from the passenger seat as Athos sped down the motorway, trying to hide his excitement.

'Well we didn't really want to go down the Queens again,' Porthos reasoned from the back, where he was squashed up next to d'Artagnan, 'variety is the spice of life, you know.'

'I know, but its a bit of trek to come back up here for the cinema.' Aramis frowned, turning round in his seat.

'I thought we might miss the cinema tonight,' Athos muttered, cocking an eyebrow at his friend as he turned back. 'We've got a lot planned and I don't think we'll be back in time.'

'Really?' Aramis frowned, 'where are we going, France?' he deadpanned.

'You wait and see.' d'Artagnan spoke up, adjusting his shirt as he went. It was a swelteringly-hot August day, and he had already cranked the window as far as it would go.

Shrugging, Aramis settled back down in his seat and turned the radio up.

'Why are we at a lake?' Aramis frowned, confusion rippling through him as he looked around and saw they were quite alone on a small meadow next to a large, tree-lined lake.

'Why not?' Porthos chuckled, patting Aramis on the back.

'It's just...there's nothing here?' Again Aramis shrugged, figuring his friends had some sort of weird plan cooked up as usual. Every birthday was the same. Shopping trips that were really the front for an afternoon of paintball, quiet nights-in that transcended into late-night pizza and karaoke.

He turned round to see d'Artagnan and Athos sorting out a picnic blanket, whilst Porthos had gone back to the car, which they had parked next to a tree, and was now bringing out a disposable barbecue and a cool box, which he presumed held meat.

'Ah guys, this is great!' he grinned, settling himself down as Athos passed him a beer. He relaxed down onto the grass as Porthos set about lighting the fire, before he went back to the car and brought out a large black plastic bag.

'What's that?' Aramis asked- he watched as Porthos shook the bag and a large collection of balloons came floating out, attached by a weight to the ground.

'Gotta have a bit of colour, eh?' he asked, trying to not to let his heart sink as Aramis swallowed, missed a beat, and then nodded enthusiastically, smiling to make it seem he was alright.

They all settled down as Porthos gathered all the food, and soon they were all chatting and drinking beer in the summer sun.

'Listen,' Athos muttered as they waited for the sausages to start cooking. 'I know we usually each get you a present, like we do every year...' he said, before reaching behind him and bringing out a brightly wrapped box.

'But this year we've got you something from the three of us-' he finished, handing it to Aramis.

'Guys! I've told you, I don't expect presents...'

'Yet I'd bet he'd moan if we didn't get him one!' d'Artagnan quipped, laughing as he took a swig out of his bottle.

'You know me too well!' Aramis laughed, before he ripped off the paper and stared down at the box.

Porthos couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face as they each stared across at their friend as he read the description on the outside of the box.

'Colourblind corrective glasses...?' he whispered, eyes widening with each word. He looked up at his brothers, who each smiled back. 'Guys, I don't...' he trailed off, feeling his hands start to shake as he looked back down.

'Wanna try actually putting them on?' Porthos chuckled, excitement fizzing in his own veins.

Eyes still wide, Aramis opened the box and took the glasses out of their plastic packaging.

'You'll be able to see what we can see everyday...' d'Artagnan explained, hardly able to stop himself from smiling as Aramis took a deep, steadying breath, and put the glasses on. Looking up at his brothers, his hands flew to his mouth and his heart skipped a beat as the shades of greys, whites and blacks suddenly turned to bright flashes of colour, almost too bright. He took them off, blinked a few times as his world returned to grey, before putting them back on again. He felt emotion rise in his throat as he looked at his friend's grinning faces, their own eyes glassy as they watched him discover the world in colour.

'Look at the balloons, Aramis,' Athos said, tugging at the string to make them move in the breeze.

'Oh my...I can't believe...' Aramis swallowed hard but couldn't keep out the small cry that overwhelmed him as he felt tear trail its way down his cheek. 'What colours are they?' he asked, his voice high and childlike as he looked back at Athos.

'Reds, whites, yellow...' Athos smiled, before he noticed Aramis was staring at them all again.

He pointed at his shirt, which was now brightly coloured and not the wash of grey he was used to.

'This is green.' Athos smiled; he pointed to Porthos' shirt. 'That's red.'

'Red...wow...' Aramis sat back as he took in the world around him.

'This is purple.' d'Artagnan smiled, pointing at his own shirt.

'That's a good colour!' Aramis grinned wetly, before he looked up at the sky. He creased his mouth into a tight line to stop himself from crying again as he pointed upwards.

'What's that one?'

'That's blue...'

'Wow...' Aramis whispered, before running his hands across the grass next to him. He looked up at Athos, a small smile on his face. 'Green?'

'Yep!' Athos chuckled, wiping his own eyes as he watched Aramis stand up, his hands crossed around his head as he turned a full 360 degrees, mouth open like a goldfish, before he rubbed at his own eyes and sniffled again, head in his hands.

'Mis?' Porthos muttered after a few seconds as they watched Aramis' shoulders start moving up and down. 'You alright?

'You...' Aramis sniffed, before clearing his throat and turning back to his friends. 'None of you will ever know how much this means to me...' he whispered, shaking his head. 'You're the best set of friends little old me could ever hope for.'

He turned back, grinning, as he took in the deep greens of the trees that lined the lake and the the hues of blue in the lake.

'So...I guess you don't like it?' Athos called out after a couple of minutes. Sighing, he stood up. 'I've still got the receipt- I can still take it back it you want?' he teased, smiling as Aramis chuckled and shook his heard.

'These are staying on forever!' he promised, before wiping his nose again as Athos came up to stand beside him. 'This is the best birthday ever...' he whispered, giving his oldest friend a smile.

'It was Porthos who found them on the internet,' Athos replied, before nodding at his friend. He grinned to himself as he saw Aramis was flicking up the glasses before putting them back down again, a broad smile on his face as he compared his two worlds.

He turned back to Athos, putting the glasses back down before studying him closely. 'What colour are your eyes?' he asked, before blinking as a new thought occurred to him. 'What colour are my eyes?'

'Well, my eyes are green,' Athos replied, before nodding at Aramis. 'Yours are brown.'

'Brown? That's great!' Aramis smiled, before they both turned round as Porthos shouted up to them.

'Foods done!' he called.

'Come on, come see what colour all your favourite foods really are!' Athos grinned, before they joined the others on the picnic blanket, each content in the knowledge that Aramis' birthday surprise was one that wouldn't be forgotten- or topped- for a long time.

Thanks for reading!

A/N- Whilst I did some research on the colour-corrective glasses, I'm not sure that they can correct full colour-blindness, so I've taken a bit of artistic license with this fic ^^

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